Page 105 of Rare Blend
A palpable quiet stretches between us, and I would give anything to go back in time to redo this.
Her expression is unreadable, and I’m starting to sweat, waiting for an answer.
“You know what? Never mind. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”
“What!” she shrieks. “No, I’m not saying no.” She wraps her arms around my back and rests her chin on my chest, looking up at me. “I think we should talk about what it means.”
“Okay,” I say cautiously. “For me, it means that I like you. That I have feelings for you. And I want to see where this goes.”
Her body melts a little more into mine. “I like you, too.”
I don’t think I realized how badly I needed to hear that. The pressure in my chest releases, and it feels like I can breathe a deep, full breath.
“But I’m still leaving,” she continues.
My heart stutters. I know she’s leaving. And I know I’m setting myself up for a world of hurt come January. But I also know I can’t stay away from her anymore. She feels inevitable, as if no matter how hard I try, I’ll still end up in this spot, hoping for a chance.
“How about this? We go on one date and then another date, and we keep going on dates, but only with each other. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Her eyes regard me curiously. “So, like casual exclusivity?”
A dry laugh slips out, though I don’t mean for it to. “Let me make myself clear. Nothing aboutusis casual.”
She sucks in a breath, and her chest presses against me. “What happens in January?” Her voice is a low whisper, and I hear my own fears in the slight tremble of her words.
I don’t have an answer for her. There isn’t a solution to the warning sign in the room with us. What I do know is that I’m sure as shit not going to feel less for her.
“We can cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Her lips press together as if she’s mulling it over, her eyes darting back and forth, a faint crease forming between her brows, but she nods slowly. “Okay. Let’s go on a date.”
CHAPTER 38
Marisa
BUCKET OF COLD WATER
Ithink I’m going to puke. I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous. Which is ridiculous, because it’s Ethan.
The mascara wand shakes in my hand as I try to do a final coat. It’s been three days since I agreed to go on a date with Ethan, and if I’m being honest, he’s consumed ninety-nine percent of my thoughts. I remember being at Thanksgiving and meeting Jenn’s family, but it feels like I wasn’t really there. I was going through the motions. I’ve found myself drifting off into a dreamlike state, my thoughts wandering back to the wine cellar, kissing him, doing a lot more than kissing him. We went from zero to a hundred very quickly, but it also didn’t feel fast because we’ve actually gotten to know each other.
A knock at the front door sounds and, by the grace of the universe, I don’t stab myself in the eye.
“Coming!” I shout, my voice already vibrating with the anticipation of seeing him.
I open the door, and he walks in casually, like he’s done countless times before. However, this time he is wearing the cheesiest smile, and I find myself mirroring it. I’ve never felt so giddy.
For a beat, we’re standing, smiling at each other, the excitement unmistakable. Would it be silly to kiss him before the date even begins? Because I’m struggling to keep my thoughts on anything else.
Ethan laughs to himself, shaking his head. And then when our eyes meet, butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“Fuck it,” Ethan says, backing me up against the wall. He wastes zero time, lifting me off the ground and capturing my mouth with his. I melt into him as his tongue works over mine. It’s a dance of stroking and sucking and pulling and it feels practiced even though we’ve just begun. It’s like we’ve been kissing each other for ages with the way he knows just how to curl his tongue to mine. My eyes are closed, but they still roll back in my head. He breaks the kiss and slides me down his body, back to solid ground.
Panting, he says, “I have no idea what happened. I got one look at you and had to kiss you.”
Well, if I wasn’t already dissolving into a puddle, I am now. My stomach flips and dips, and I feel like I’m going to soar out of my body. How am I going to survive dinner? We’re a minute into this date, and I’m ready to rip off this dress and get naked with him. My hormones could use a bucket of cold water right about now.
“So, where are we going?” I try to change the subject, piercing through the fog of lust drifting around us.
